


like any true love (it drives you crazy)

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy's arguments continue at school as if nothing had changed. As if they weren't fucking soulmates. Though, Clarke refused to acknowledge that; the universe had just made a huge mistake. She wasn't stuck with him for the rest of her life, right?</p>
<p>Fucking cosmic mistake; that was it. Bellamy Blake couldn't be her soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like any true love (it drives you crazy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caitlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitlyn/gifts).



> i LIVE for soulmate au's
> 
> inspired by: the one where you can communicate with them in dreams until/after you meet them.
> 
> dedicated to the nerdlord of my heart

Clarke's entire life has been filled with the concept of soulmates; she had heard that people could have more than one; that soulmates could be platonic, filled with laughter and inside jokes that nobody knew. When she was young, Clarke couldn't wait until get her soulmate; the thrill of finding the person that Fate thought was perfect for you was exhilarating. And, the fact that you could share dreams – the dreamscape as it was called – was fascinating. Clarke had always wondered if someone could study it, major in the concepts of soulmates.

 

When Clarke was five – a little girl with short blonde tresses that curled around her neck – Clarke saw her first dreamscape. She had dreamt herself an ocean; big and blue and vast. There were rocks and sand surrounding it, engulfing it like quicksand. A few feet away from where Clarke stands, is her father; his sandy hair whipping in the wind. His feet covered in sand. He grins at her, walks toward her, his smile engulfing his face.

 

“Clarke,” He says. “Of course you would end up being my soulmate. Makes sense, doesn't it?”

 

Clarke giggles, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as he lifts her up with the air, laughing. “A nice dreamscape you've dreamed up for us.” He says, poking Clarke's cheek lightly.

 

Clarke just laughs and wiggles in her father's arms trying to get out and embrace the ocean. “Ocean.” Clarke states, pointing to it. Her father laughs, setting her down.

 

“Let's go.” He said, and Clarke runs toward the clear water, splashing her father who was not too far behind. They stayed like that the entire time; splashing and laughing. It's one of the more vivid dreams that Clarke can remember in her childhood.

 

Her parents were soulmates; it seemed fitting. They were like puzzle pieces, fitting together. It wasn't until Clarke's father died – in something so mundane like a car accident; it could happen to anyone – that the idea of soulmates dwindled. What's to keep your soulmate from dying? What's to keep them from life and its ever present cruelty. She can still hear the Mercedes crashing into their garage; the snap of his neck, haunting her dreams. The worst part? She didn't have anyone to share it with. While her belief in soulmates was practically nonexistent anymore, Clarke desperately wanted someone to console her; to comfort her. Her mother only looked down on her, whispering, “It's going to be okay.” Clarke wants to scream; her only soulmate gone, dead in a second.

 

I'm so sorry for your loss, the people of Ark City whispered. It was nice to have their condolences, but at the same time it was suffocating, making sure she can't breathe. When Wells', her best friend; someone she's always counted on, moves away, a weight drops on Clarke's chest. She desperately waits for the relief; “It's going to get better.” They say. But, when? Clarke thinks. When will all of the guilt and the torment stop. Clarke's dreams are filled with her father, dead and motionless inside his car.

 

_______________________________

 

Clarke meets Finn and Raven the following month. She's overjoyed to have someone to talk to even if they're constantly making out. Raven was a bit older than her, with brown waves of hair, and smooth, dark skin. She was sarcastic and witty; much to Clarke's relief. She and Raven instantly became friends; inside jokes secretly making its way into their friendship, leaving Finn in the dust.

 

Finn, he was sensible and practical; a bit boring for Clarke's taste. He had long dark brown hair, that went up to his shoulders, and a toothy smile that gleamed in the sunlight. Raven constantly joked that his smile rivaled the sun; Finn would just smile at her fondly, kissing her forehead.

 

Clarke's obsession – which it's not, despite what her best friend, Octavia would remark – with soulmates bears it's ugly head yet again, after 5 months of knowing Finn and Raven.

 

“Is Finn your soulmate?” Clarke asks, over lunch one day, causing Raven to choke on her soda. She gags, laughing and shaking her head. Clarke turns to her, giving her a bemused smile.

 

“No. He's not.”

 

“And that doesn't bother you?” She asks, an eyebrow raised. Raven shakes her head, and turns to Clarke, her brown hair getting whipped into Clarke's face by the wind.

 

“Why should it?”

 

That earns Raven a look of disbelief.

 

“No, I'm serious. It doesn't bother me. I mean, I haven't met my soulmate yet; if I even have one.” Raven quips, throwing her apple in the trash.

 

“Of course you have one.”

 

“What if I don't? Frankly, I don't give a shit about soulmates.” Raven says, sighing under Clarke's incredulous look.

 

“But, they're soulmates.” Clarke says.

 

Raven rolls her eyes, and gives Clarke an amused look. “I've had this conversation with Finn a million times before. Soulamtes are just bullshit. They're whom Fate says you must be with for the rest of your life.”

 

“Soulmates aren't always romantic.” Clarke states. Raven scoffs, rolling her eyes again. She looks at her watch and hums. Raven starts to gather all her stuff – her lunch, textbook, jacket, and binders – and stuffs them into her bag.

 

“Whatever. We got to go. Don't want to be late for class.” Raven says, shrugging on her jacket. Clarke nods, throwing her lunch away, and putting her bag over her shoulder, gathering her books.

 

How could Raven not believe in soulmates, Clarke thinks. Everyone believes in them; you'd be insane not to. Soulmates were basically the universal law. Sensing that the conversation was over, Clarke just shrugs and follows Raven out the cafeteria.

 

Of course Clarke's view of soulmates changes the day she meets Bellamy Blake – also known to her as official reincarnation of Satan himself.

 

______________________________

 

Until Bellamy, Clarke's dreams are dull; the fun of the dreamscape was sharing those intimate moments of yourself with someone. At least that's what Clarke had thought when she was younger. Personally, as she gets older, Clarke thinks that media and society are so focused on the concepts of soulmates that the forget about the reality of it. That when you lose yours, your dreams are filled with dread. Clarke fucking hates soulmates.

 

_______________________________

 

Of course, it's not like Clarke regrets meeting Bellamy. She got to meet Octavia who, Clarke decides approximately 5 minutes after she meets the both of them, is much more tolerable than her older brother. Bellamy is arrogant, unbelievably rude, and a pain in her ass.

 

Bellamy and Octavia are close in more ways than one: they both have dark hair – Octavia with her silky brown locks, and Bellamy with his curly dark hair that sticks to his forehead occasionally – and Bellamy was extremely protective of her. Which Clarke found a bit annoying; It's not like Bellamy is her mother or anything.

 

Octavia was nice enough; sweet and occasionally sarcastic, her lips frequently quirking up into a smirk. She had a habit of prying into Clarke's personally, though it was mostly her love life. Clarke didn't mind most of the time; she was nice about it in her own weird way.

 

On the day that Finn and Raven broke up (which conveniently was the day that Clarke finally meet Bellamy) – Apparently Finn was caught kissing another girl, Raven had a fit, not that Clarke could blame her – Octavia approached her, her arms filled with binders and textbooks, (how she could carry that Clarke had no idea) and sat down on the green bench beside her, holding up a picture of a man.

 

“What do you think?” She had asked, a nervous smile plastered on her face.

 

Clarke raised an eyebrow and grabs some of the textbooks, gently putting them on the ground, freeing Octavia's arms. “About what?”

 

Octavia nearly shoves the picture in Clarke's face, causing the blonde to groan. “About him?” Clarke asks, and Octavia nods vigorously, her expression agitated.

 

The man, Clarke recognizes him from somewhere yet she can't place his name, has a scar on the side of his cheek, brown hair falling into his eyes. “Lincoln,” She says. That's where she recognizes him from; Lincoln's their school marching band with Monty and Jasper. They frequently talked about the man from the Grounders', a popular club at Ark High. “Why are you asking me about him?” A grin stretches across Clarke's face. “Do you like him? Like like him?”

 

“Oh my God, Clarke.” Octavia groans.

 

“Well? Do you?” Clarke asks, scooting closer to her friend. The brunette groans again, hiding her face in her hands.

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Answer the question.”

 

Octavia picks up a notebook from the ground and whacks Clarke's arm with it. “Yes! Fine, I really like him. Do you think I should go for it?” Octavia's face reddens as she looks at her best friend, who's grinning at her, ear to ear.

 

“Do you think he likes you?” Clarke asks, and she can't believe they're actually talking about boys. They never talk about boys.

 

“I mean, Jas is always talking about how he never stops talking about me.” She says with a shrug. She tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear, nervous.

 

“I can't believe we're talking about boys.” Clarke says, echoing her thoughts. Octavia just smiles at her, a giggle escaping her lips. “I say go for it. Why are you asking me?”

 

“I care about you're opinion, dumbass.” Octavia says, smiling at her. Clarke beams, and starts to pick up her books, helping her so that her friend isn't overwhelmed. “Come on,” Octavia says. “Let's get to class.”

 

_______________________________

 

Of course the arrogant prick that she meets by knocking heads (literally) turns out to be soulmate. Honestly, Fate could go fuck itself.

 

It sort of made sense that Bellamy was her other soulmate; he was stupid, the universe was stupid. No one could say Clarke wasn't practical.

 

Why couldn't Bellamy just not be her soulmate? She spent enough time with him as it is. Unfortunately, they had the same friends; knew the same people. They usually spent lunch together; glaring and arguing constantly. God, why couldn't Bell's soulmate be Octavia or something?

 

The dreams with Bellamy start the night after she first meets him; like officially meets him, not pass him by the hallway or in Octavia's house. As per usual, he's obnoxious, annoying, and rude.

 

Bellamy dreams of blue skies and blonde hair. It was creepy at first but Clarke got used to it. The body – his dream was literally a body with blonde curls and light skin, it was fucking creepy – wore Clarke's jacket; a blue, denim, worn out jacket that fits the woman, (Clarke guessed it was she, she has no clue why this is happening to her?)and Bellamy's facing her, and she can see his smile. Clarke groans at the involuntary way the corners her mouth quirk up at his smile.

 

Bellamy turns and flushes deep red, his eyes blown out. Clarke snickers, a grin strectched onto her face (Dammit, Clarke.) “What the hell, Clarke?” He asks. And Clarke's grin disappears from her face. Oh, right. The whole soulmates bullshit.

 

Bellamy grins, a cocky smile plastered on his face. Oh, great, Clarke thinks.

 

“I guess this means we're soulmates, Princess.” Bellamy states and Clarke wants to smack the smug grin off of his face.

 

“We are not soulmates.” Clarke snaps.

 

“Are we not in a dreamscape together?”

 

Clarke looks around at her and Bellamy's dream; Bellamy's with his green plants and starnge blonde woman, and Clarke with the sea breeze whipping in her face. Clarke seethes,stomping towards him She doesn't know where the hell this anger is coming from. She rosses her arms over her chest, glaring at him as if it's his fault. No, it is his fault; it's his fault for being Bellamy, with his stupid hair, and stupid mouth, and his stupid self.

 

“This is not a dreamscape,” She says, gesturing to the area around them. “This is a fucking cosmic mistake.”

 

The muscles in Bellamy's jaw clench as he glares at her. He stalks toward her, his expression hurt. “It doesn't matter if this is a 'cosmic mistake,” Clarke rolls her eyes at the air quotations, “We're stuck with each other.” He snaps, getting up in her face. Their bodies brush as they stare at each other, and Bellamy's gaze flickers from her eyes to her lips.

 

“I am not getting stuck with you for an eternity. This is not happening.” Clarke says, looking behind him to see that the woman is long gone.

 

“I like this less than you do, Princess.”

 

Clarke rolls her eyes. “That name is getting annoying fast.”

 

“Then it's serving it's purpose,” Bellamy remarks, smirking at her.

 

“I hate you,” She states, jabbing him in the ribs. Bellamy raises an eyebrow, the smirk not leaving his face.

 

“The feeling's mutual, Princess.”

 

_________________________________

 

Clarke and Bellamy's arguments continue at school as if nothing had changed. As if they weren't fucking soulmates. Though, Clarke refused to acknowledge that; the universe had just made a huge mistake. She wasn't stuck with him for the rest of her life, right?

 

Fucking cosmic mistake; that was it. Bellamy Blake couldn't be her soulmate.

 

__________________________________

 

Clarke really shouldn't have been surprised when Bellamy, as per usual, continued to be an ass about their soulmate situations. He constantly boasted about it – in their dreams of course, Bellamy and Clarke had agreed not to tell their friends about it, especially Octavia. God knows that she would tease them mercilessly.

 

Bellamy's dreams were, weird, for a lack of a better word. They varied from time to time, sometimes he dreamed of Octavia, her beaming face turning to look at him, and in those moments Clarke didn't mind having Bell as a soulmate.

 

On the other nights however, he's the same as he is in reality. A rude, unheroic, douchebag. Clarke doesn't care if he's attractive or not; he's still a dick.

 

One night, when Clarke's subconscious decides to fucking betray her, Clarke dreams of her father. The horrific car crash that took his life, reenacts itself into Clarke's dreams, and Bellamy is drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

 

He walks toward her, leaving his dream of Hades and Persephone behind and going into her nightmare. The blood that had remained in the vehicle chokes her, wrapping itself around her lungs like smoke, and Clarke gags, desperate for air.

 

“Clarke?” She can hear Bellamy call out her name, and wants to respong, wants to breathe,but all that comes out is a strangled sob.

 

He's dead, she thinks. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

 

________________________________

 

Clarke ignores Bellamy the next day, turning her head when he tries to pick arguments. She pretends not to notice the hurt look on his face; Surely, it was because he couldn't argue with his favorite punching bag, right?

 

_________________________________

 

Octavia, being Octavia, corners the next week when Clarke hadn't talked or argued with Bellamy in days. And even by Bellamy and Clarke standards, that’s strange. She corners her by the hallway, blocking her from moving and dragging into a corner near her Math class. 

 

“What’s going on with you and Bell?” She asks.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You guys haven’t argued in days, and he’s getting really broody.” Octavia explains, shouldering her bag.

 

“He always broody. And, don’t worry about it. He’s just being Bellamy.” Clarke says, and Octvaia gives her a confused glance before turn ing and leading Clarke back to the main hallway.

 

“Fine-”

 

“Don’t say Mom.” Clarke interrupts.

 

Octavia grins mischievously, “Okay, Mom.”

 

“I swear to God, Octavia.” 

 

Octavia just cackles.

 

_____________________________________ 

 

Bellamy dreams of something Clarke would describe as literal hell.

 

The skies are pitch blake, Clarke can faintly see clouds, white and puffy. Thunder claps in the background, causing the blonde to jump. Bellamy sands not too far away, on the edge of his dreamscape. 

 

Clarke notices that there is blood smeared on his hands, which Bellamy looks down on. “It’s my fault,” He says, his tone sorrowful.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

He laughs bitterly, and Clarke desperately craves his full and hearty laugh, that fills up her chest. “Our mother died when O was 8.” He says. “It was my fault.”

 

“How is it your fault?” Clarke asks, her voice soft. She walks toward him quietly. She doesn’t want him to cry. God, Clarke never thought she would have to comfort Bellamy.

 

“I could have done something. I could have noticed the signs.”

 

“Bellamy, her death is not on you. You practically raised Octavia on your own, and she turned out great. That’s on you. Her death was out of your control.” Clarke says, going over and rubbing Bellamy’s back. She has to stand on her toes, reaching over high to reach his shoulders. 

 

“I - Thank you.” He says, straightening up, and mustering a half smile that’s aimed at her. Clarke smiles back, and while there were no fireworks or butterflies, she’ll be the last one to admit that she felt her heart flutter at the sight of his smile. 

 

His face shifts to confusion and he glances at her. “I really don’t want your pity, Clarke.” He says. 

 

“I'm not doing this because I pity you,” Clarke says, resting her hand on Bellamy's shoulder. He instantly relaxes into the touch, closing his eyes, and humming softly.

 

“What? You actually care?” He spits out after he few moments. Bellamy suddenly recoils against her touch, causing Clarke to remove her hand.

 

“Look,” Clarke says, turning so that she can look at him in the eye. His eyes, dark and striking, are rimmed with tears, some of them spilling out onto his cheeks. “You may be a total ass half the time, but I care about you. I don't want you to be sad.”

 

Bellamy smiles, opening his mouth to speak when Clarke puts her finger over his mouth. “Don't get cocky.” She says, a shadow of a smile appearing on her face.

 

Bellamy gives her a watery laugh, grinning at her. “Thanks, Princess.”

 

“I'm was serious about the whole Prince thing you know. Because I will do it.”

 

Bellamy smirks, “No, you won't.”

 

“Try me.”

 

___________________________________

 

Jasper looks back and forth between the two, his expression puzzled. "Since when do Mom and Dad not argue." He shares a curious and seriously freaked out glance with Monty, who grins back at him. "Since are you guys friends?" He asks, incredulously..

 

Bellamy and Clarke both flush, their cheeks and necks going to a deep red. Octavia snickers from her spot next to Lincoln. "I think hell just froze over," She says. She flings a grape in Bellamy's direction and he glares at her, though the glare has no heat behind it. She laughs as one of the grapes lands in Bellamy's hair.

 

"Yeah," Raven says. "Since are you two friends?"

 

"First of all, Jas, it's creepy that you call us Mom and Dad. What do you call your actual parents?" Clarke says, sending a look in Jasper's direction. The boy just shrugs, dodging Octavia's attempts at throwing fruit into his hair.

 

"Second of all," Bellamy says, finishing for the blonde. Raven snorts as she looks at the astonished expressions on her friends' faces. Since when do Bellamy and Clarke finish each other's sentences? Raven thinks. "Who the hell cares if we're friends?" Bellamy finishes.

 

"Is this a joke?" Miller asks. "Are you two pranking us?" Clarke snorts, and shakes her head. Bellamy just glares at his friend who gives an innocent look back.

 

"We're friends. We've always been friends." Clarke says, throwing her lunch away. Octavia ceases with the fruit throwing, her mouth hanging wide open.

 

"That isn't true, at all. You guys have hated each other since the 9th grade." Octavia sputters out, the revelation rendering her speechless. When Clarke and Bellamy shake their heads, Octavia gives both of them a disbelieving glance, her eyebrows raised. "You did. I was there."

 

Raven snorts, shaking her head. This is fucking comedy gold, she thinks to herself. Bellamy shakes his head at his sister. “O, we’re friends. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” He says.

 

“Too late,” Octavia quips.

 

“Stop. End of discussion.” Clarke says, her tone firm. She turns to Bellamy and smiles at him, her cheeks stretching out.

 

“Okay, Mom.” Jasper says, snickering. Bellamy throws a pen at his head. 

 

________________________________

 

Sometimes Clarke dreams of mundane things such as, oceans, people, and animals. Sometimes she dreams of her father, and the blood stenching the car that he had died in. The blood sometimes wraps around, encasing her. Clarke hates it. Bellamy's there sometimes, trying to make her laugh, soothing her. Her giggles come out strangled as she tries to get through the moment as she tries to get through his death.

 

Other nights, when Bellamy's gone – Clarke thinks he has another soulmate, Octavia probably – Clarke deals with it as she always has; pushing through it alone. While Bellamy helps, she doesn't need him. Though, she feels a pang when she notices that she is alone. Clarke ignores it.

 

Her dreamscape is often filled with blue and purple skies, mixing together, forming a beautiful scenery. Green grass and trees aligning the canvas, scattered all around. Sometimes the ocean fills in where the plants had previously occupied. Sometimes Clarke dreams of her father, happy and free and alive. Their dreams are cut in half, one for Clarke, beautiful and stunning, and one for Bellamy, remarkable and odd.

 

Bellamy's dreamscapes are strange. He dreams of her sometimes, and their arguments. Sometimes there's a second Clarke walking around in their dreams, and it's just fucking odd. Why would he dream of her? Clarke wonders when she's up at night, unable to sleep.His dreams are sometimes plagued with Octavia, a dream-like being that looks like her and talks like her. Soulmates and dreams are weird, Clarke later decides.

 

Other times, they bicker, and makes Clarke's heart jump and does other things that Clarke really doesn't want to deal with. Stupid Bellamy and her stupid stupid heart.

 

_____________________________________

 

Finn dies and Clarke’s dreams are plagued with him. “It was an accident.” Clarke repeats to herself. “It was an accident.”

 

Octavia pities her, Bellamy comforts her, and Raven glares at her. Clarke wants to scream. Her mother lets her skip school, offering her tea and cookies daily. Octavia comes over, bringing over brownies and hugging Clarke tightly, and updating her on school. Raven had become a statue, not talking anyone. Bellamy was trying to make the most of the situation, trying to comfort and console every time in his best ability. Clarke thinks of “Mom and Dad” and nearly smiles. 

 

Her dreams are filled with Finn and blood and “It’s all her fault.” She’s grateful that Bellamy’s beside her, abandoning his dreamscape and enveloping Clarke in a hug. He squeezes, whispering, “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

 

“But, it is!” Clarke explodes. She could have stopped it. Finn wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t for her. 

 

“Don’t listen to Raven, Clarke. She’s upset.” Bellamy tries to reason, putting his hand on her shoulder. 

 

“She’ll never forgive me for this.” Clarke feels her chest constrict as she struggles to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

 

“You want forgiveness. I’ll give it to you. You’re forgiven.” 

 

Clarke shakes her head, coughing. She wheezes, struggling to get air in her lungs. It’s all her fault. It’s all her fault. it’s all her fault.

 

“Clarke. Clarke, I need you to breathe,” Bellamy states. 

 

“I can’t.”

 

“In and out, Clarke. In and out. Breathe.” She can hear Bellamy say. 

 

Slowly, Clarke’s breathing comes back. Her chest doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode. She can breathe freely, she tries not to wheeze as she regains her ground.

 

“Thank you.” She says, her voice breathless. 

 

“No, problem, Princess.” He responds, a smile growing on his face. 

 

“I swear to God, Bellamy. I’ll start calling you Prince. Do you want that? Cause I’ll do it.” Clarke threatens, and Bellamy’s face beams, brightening up. Clarke can feel her breath stutter as she looks at him. A grin breaks out on her face as she looks up at him.

 

“Thank you,” She repeats. Her heart thuds against her chest as his smile causes warmness to flow throughout her. I must not fall, she thinks. I can’t fall.

 

_____________________________________

 

It all starts when Bellamy dreams that he’s a werewolf. A werewolf. Clarke kind of wishes she could have thought about that. That would be awesome.

 

He approaches her, strangely enough he’s not in wolf form. His nails had ascended into long, thin claws, that looked like they could cut deep. His hair looked longer, his curls sticking to his forehead. “I gotta admit,” Clarke says. “That’s fucking awesome.”

 

“Thanks, Princess.” Clarke glares at the nickname, flicking his forehead. Bellamy runs his hands over his jaw, quickly opening his mouth to reveal fangs that were where his teeth would be. 

 

Clarke snorts, and pushes his jaw up with her fingers. “Nice one, Bell.”

 

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his face. “Since when do you call me Bell?” He asks.

 

“Shut up, Bellamy.” Clarke snaps. She really doesn’t want to go over this. She can’t go over the fact that she wants to kiss him most of the time.

 

“Can’t or won’t?” Bellamy asks, his expression smug. 

 

Shit. Shit. “Shit.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Everything stops. Clarke can’t help it; but her mouth drops. The air whips around her, as if freezing her body. Bellamy stares at her with this look, and Clarke wants to crumble. Or kiss him. She hasn’t decided yet.

 

“Bellamy-”

 

“I know this isn’t the ideal time,” He interrupts.

 

“Bell-”

 

Bellamy gives a light laugh; his laughter filling her up with joy. Clarke realizes she wants to hear that all the fucking time. “Will you just let me finish?” He says, rather impatiently.

 

Clarke laughs. “Okay.”

 

“I know this isn’t the ideal time, with everything actually. But, I told you here because this isn’t real. The dreamscape isn’t reality. You don’t have to deal with it until you’re ready. I just really fucking love you, okay?” 

 

“Kind of ironic isn’t it? Falling for your soulmate?” Clarke says, her voice soft. I love you, I love you, I love you, repeats in her brain, like a mantra. God, she’s fucked.

 

Bellamy laughs. “Guess it wasn’t a huge cosmic mistake after all.”

 

Clarke snorts, because come on? He still remembers that? It seems as if Clarke had said that forever ago.

 

“I love you too,” She says.

 

“Clarke you don’t have to-” Bellamy starts.

 

“Shut up.” And she kisses him, and lets herself fall.


End file.
